


How Do I Explain You?

by Jinxxer2208



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bisexuality, F/M, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Violence, Music, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, deep south
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxxer2208/pseuds/Jinxxer2208
Summary: A freshly gay-bashed Dirk returns home from a rough semester in a Georgia college, and meets someone he never expected to fall for.Minor violence, mostly nice. Will be somewhat long, and I'll update as often as I can.





	

Dirk stood, leaning on the inside or the bus, his hoodie pulled tight down over his face and headphones snaking through his jacket and into his ears. His own brother’s beats thrummed through the cord, vibrating their way into his skull and pumping his heart in time. As his stop approached, he began letting his mind wander, as well as his eyes. He caught the pink eyes of the girl across from him, and looked quickly down to his bag. The duffle was rather full, all his clothes and possessions from his dorm firmly packed away. He looked up once more and was startled to find the girl standing directly in front of him. From a few inches away, Dirk could clearly make out her eyebrow piercing and heavy-handed eyeliner, as black as her painted lips and easily as beautiful. Her lips were full and bowed, a piercing peeking out from between them to complete the one through her bottom lip. Her curled hair was bleached white from a dirty blonde and tipped with hot pink that matched her tight miniskirt, which was complimented by black fishnets and ankle boots. Her top was cropped and showed off yet another piercing on her navel, which led Dirk to wonder just how many piercings this girl had.  
“Hey, are you Dirk?” the enigma asked, with a heavy NY accent.  
“Uhm… How is it that you know my name?” He answered slowly, not wanting to revert to his thick German accent.  
“You look JUST like your brothas’. I’m Roxy.” Her hair bounced and she stuck her hand out, her chest thrust forward to give the illusion that she had much more of a bosom than she did. He tentatively took the mocha hand in his own pale one, and gave it a quick shake. The apprehension was clear in his tense shoulders, even through his black windbreaker. His feet twitched in his orange converse, and his knees brushed together in his baggy skinny jeans. His backpack did nothing to help, shifting on his back as awkwardly as he himself shifted.  
“How do you know them…?” He swore at himself for the way he says ‘zem’ and fiddled with his lip piercing with his tongue.   
“Oh, my little sista’ hangs out with Dave ‘awl’ the time.” She chuckled, a smoker’s laugh, and he paused to wonder if her cigarette butts would have lipstick on them.  
“Okay… Where are you headed now?” He hated his thick voice, but was used to it. She grabbed his duffel and began to exit the bus, smirking at him. He at first was angry at her, then realized it was his stop and quickly followed the receding cat-face backpack. 

Once off the bus, they began the short walk to his eldest brother’s apartment building. He’d taken his bag back from her and was carrying it in his left hand, while attempting not to brush her with his right. Together they discovered that they were the same age, 21, and that they had a mutual interest in science, Roxy in biochemistry and himself in robotics. As they walked, they spoke about him leaving his school and returning home and about her working as a waitress there in Houston to raise money to go to one.   
Soon enough they found themselves alone in the elevator, waiting out its long pull to the top floor in peaceful silence. Once they’d arrived, he heard the familiar din of his family.   
The slamming of doors and his brother screaming into his phone, the muted sound of Dave’s mix leaking out of his supposedly sound-proof -dungeon- room, the thrum of a sewing machine from Bro’s room, undoubtedly making more smuppets.   
Yet, another sound was quietly pulsing underneath it all.  
A violin.  
Roxy grinned and unlocked the door, handing the key to Dirk and snickering as she hip-bumped the door open and let the cacophony gush into the hallway, covering Dirk like water and nearly drowning him in bliss.   
Home.

He walked in and set his bags on the pull-out couch, disturbing his angry brother in the process. When he’d said a quick hello, the eldest Strider stepped out onto one of the patios to continue to scream at whoever he was bossing about at the moment. Dave’d obviously felt his record collection shake when the door slammed, and the thumping bass and shaky treble quickly ceased. From the sticker-plastered door emerged the youngest of the Striders, another pale blond of fourteen, wearing his thick headphones around his neck and overly-large aviators around his face. With a simple white wifebeater and black jeans, he looked the part of the downtown disc jockeys that seemed to inhabit the very streets of the city.   
“Hey, Rox, who…” Dave trailed off, and his eyebrows raised above his dark shades; he sprinted into the living room and wrapped his arms around his absentee brother.  
“Why’d you come back, man?”  
Dirk gulped, hand at the back of his brother’s neck and back, holding him tight. He breathed for a minute, fanning his brother’s hair with every exhale.  
“I’ll show you later.”

The violinist turned out to be Rose, a non-pierced, non-tattooed, innocent seeming girl, sister of Roxy and friend of Dave. She had perfectly blonde hair that was cut choppy across the front, but straight everywhere else so it curled around her jaw, and the same bright eyes as Roxy, if more violet than pink. She was rather soft-spoken and polite, but as she went back into Dave’s room to retrieve her violin case, he could see the etchings of a horrible Lovecraftian creation lightly scored into the wood of the instrument, and became suspicious that she wasn’t all she seemed. Once she’d exited with a flourish, and Roxy following her, Dave turned to Dirk and nodded.   
Dirk gingerly took his windbreaker off and let it fall onto the cluttered carpet. He yanked the back of his collar and swallowed hard, tugging it over his head and slowly turning around.

His right side was dark purple, blotches of black and deep blue speckling the alabaster of his ribcage, bordered by aging yellow. The deepest marks seemed to be in the rounded shape of a boot, while the scratches and tears along the mantle of his upper back resembled a grabbing hand. He winced as his brother’s cold hands ghosted across the bruises, likely feeling for a break. Finding nothing, Dave pulled his fingers back and let out a heavy, weighted breath.

“So, what’d ya’ do?”

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter! Yay! A quick note for this, every other chapter will be a flashback until the story catches up to itself.


End file.
